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"What's going on? What just happened? Where did the last carriage go? There were paying passengers in there. Move! Search the area!"
The sudden disappearance of the final wagon couldn't go unnoticed. The caravan guards and their anxious leader scattered, shouting for a search, but there was never any hope of finding it. They would have even more problems to deal with soon enough.
As they halted the caravan to look around, the city watch closed in on them. From the alleys and side streets came a squad of armored guards, long halberds raised as they surrounded the merchants in a tight ring.
"Stop right there! Who were the passengers you were carrying? Show me your identification—now!"
The captain's weapon pressed coldly against the caravan master's chest, his expression flat, his tone devoid of patience.
"Y–yes, of course, sir, please calm down. I'll show you everything…"
Sweat ran down the merchant's temples. He knew full well who his "passengers" were: stowaways without permits trying to slip into the royal capital.
But such work was routine business. Most caravans smuggled people for the right price....
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